


The King

by kellyn1604



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Anal Play, Bondage, F/M, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, King Negan, Knifeplay, Mild Language, Not historically accurate...I barely touched the google, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Possessive Negan, Smut, Spanking, darker than I usually write, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:45:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9551600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellyn1604/pseuds/kellyn1604
Summary: Medieval AU inspired by JDM as King Arthur in commercial for Battle of Evony. Look at him. Seriously. He looks good in armor and chain mail.King Negan teaches his new wife who she belongs to.Here's a link to the story on tumbr...it has pictures. http://kellyn1604.tumblr.com/post/156699315772/the-king





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

* * *

 

It was a day of celebration throughout the land. Banners flew in the breeze. Cheers and songs could be heard around the castle and surrounding city. The king had married a lovely new bride from a neighboring kingdom a week ago, and today the rest of the kingdom came together to watch the festivities and sport that only tournament can boast. Knights traveled to compete in hopes of winning fortune and glory and perhaps a place at King Negan’s legendary table of knights known as the Saviors. For it was they, that protected the surrounding lands from invaders and pillagers in return for tribute.

Villagers came from far and wide to witness the spectacle and to catch a glimpse their beautiful new queen. For a beauty Queen Gwendolyn was.  Red flowing locks braided in intricate patterns flowed down her back. Her porcelain skin was the envy of all. Large green eyes adorned with long thick lashes watched as each event play before her eyes. Lips the shade of a dusky rose formed a dazzling smile as cheered for the victors from her private box in the stand. The king had decided to participate in his favorite event, the melee, at the end of the tournament and was awaiting his turn on the side of the field while the jousting commenced.

The last knights lined their horses at opposite ends of the tiltyard. Each bowed to the queen. Their visors were lowered. The horses charged. The lances pointed towards the other. They hit each other with a resounding blow.  One knight fell to the ground. He struggled to stand but fell back in defeat. His squires hurried to help him off the field and to corral the horse.

The victor, Sir Richard of Alexandria, walked his white horse along the edge stands and removed his helm. He shook his wavy locks damp with perspiration. His blue eyes smiled to the crowd as he waved his hand. As he approached the royal box, he pulled a rose from his gauntlet and threw it the new queen. She caught it and the smile immediately disappeared from her face. The color drained her delicate features. Her eyes scanned the edge of the yard and found her husband’s glaring in her direction. He had seen the knight present his favor and her accept it. She quickly handed the rose to a handmaiden and sat down. Head forward, back straight, the very picture of an elegant lady.

She had not known what to expect when her father the ruler of a struggling kingdom had offered her hand in marriage to King Negan in order to avoid paying tribute. She had thought that becoming queen would afford her new found freedom. She could not have been more wrong. She had merely passed from one man’s possession to another’s. And his possession she was.

He had made it clear from the start that she belonged to him and only him. Only he would know her touch. She would only know his. His rules were very clear. She was protected by knights and watched by her handmaidens at all times. All her movements out of his presence were reported straight to the king. If she behaved unbecomingly, her shortcomings would be revisited.

Their wedding night had revealed to her a world of untold pleasure. He demanded obedience in bed as well. He laughed at her virginal blushes as he taught her in great detail how to suck his cock. He delighted in the way her eyes widened in shock when he licked her quim. She knew though that her husband was also a master of pain. She had tried very hard to please him in every way.

 

The melee was about to begin. He stood in his armor and mail. His gold crown visible against the silver of his helm. His shield bearing his emblem. He lifted his signature weapon, the morning star, which had made him a legend on battlefield and won him a kingdom. The crowded cheered for their king. He was magnificent to behold.

She watched him decimate opponent after opponent leaving a trail of bodies behind him. Squires were dodging in and out of the action dragging their injured knights to safety. Finally, there were only two left. They danced around each other as their weapons clashed and clanged against their shields. The knight fell as King Negan landed a blow to his head. His helmet flew off and he crumbled to ground lying a pool of blood.

The crowd went wild. King Negan threw down his shield and removed his helm raising the crowned helmet high into the sky gracing the crowd with his dimpled smile. A smile that fell as soon as he saw his wife. She was standing and cheering as expected of a wife. Nothing got his blood pumping faster than a bloody fight. Except a hard fuck. And his body craved her. She needed to be taught a lesson.

He left the field and changed into his formal attire in his tent in the fields commandeered for the event. He strode to the royal box to collect his wife. She curtsied at his approach and took his arm as he offered it. He remained silent. He could feel her tremble and well she should. He ignored her attempts to catch his eye all the way to the throne room.

A ceremony was held were the victors of each event were awarded a small purse. King Negan announced their names and merits while Queen Gwendolyn presented the velvet pouch of coins. When it came time to announce the winner of the joust the queen visibly stiffened.

Sir Richard sauntered up to their majesties and bowed low before them. He reached for the purse. His fingers brushing hers as they closed around his winnings. Suddenly, he took her hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. She froze. She looked over her should at her husband whose face was red with rage. He nodded to his guards who flanked Sir Richard.

“Bring me the iron!” he bellowed. A knight brought a brand that was always at the ready from a brazier in the corner. “You dare touch what is mine? I am your King. Your Queen. My wife! What gives you the right to besmirch her with your filth?”

“I beg your forgiveness, Your Majesty. I was simply swept away by her beauty. I meant no offense.”

“Offense has been taken none the less. You will wear your punishment for all to see. No one touches what is mine.”

Gwendolyn watched in horror as her husband seared the flesh of the once handsome knight’s face. His screams echoed in the hall. The guards held him in place. He soon passed out from the pain and hung limp the arms of the sentinels.

“Throw him in the dungeons.” They turned and dragged the body of Sir Richard through the hall so all may see the living cautionary tale.

King Negan turned and saw his wife shaking as tears slid down her pale cheeks. He grabbed her arm and led her to the council chambers adjoining the throne room.

“You crying for your lover, wife?” he sneered as he shoved her into the room before slamming the door.

She backed away slowly shaking her head.

“How long? We’ve been married a week! How long have you been fucking him?” he growled.

“I—I—never!” she wept.

“Then why did you accept his favor in front of the whole kingdom. Why did he feel he had the right to kiss you? Why did you let him?”

“I—didn’t mean—to…”

“You didn’t mean to? You want me to believe this is all just a misunderstanding because make no mistake I saw the lust in his eyes.”

“I—would never…”she sobbed.

“I’m going to make sure you never. I am going to make sure everyone in that throne room knows exactly who you belong to. Come here.”

The queen walked over to her husband where he stood at his round table. She screamed as he slammed her down onto the table, one hand on her back, the other lifting her skirts over her hips. She heard the sound of fabric ripping and felt the cool air hit her backside as he threw her ruined undergarment aside. His hand began to rub and massage her cheeks.

**Smack!**

“You will never…”

**Smack!**

“…act like a common whore again…”

**Smack!**

“…or I will treat you like one…”

**Smack!**

“You will never…”

**Smack!**

“…let another man touch you…”

**Smack! Smack!**

“I thought I had made that very clear.”

**Smack! Smack! Smack!**

“Do you understand?”

She had cried out with every spank. She was confused by her body’s reaction. Her cheeks were red and would surely bruise, but she had also become slick and wet. If he had intended her to remember this lesson she would every time she tried to sit for the next few days. Trying to calm herself she replied, “Yes, my King.”

“Good. On your knees.”

She slowly straightened herself up off the table and watched as he undid his sword belt letting it fall to the ground with a loud clatter. He opened his breeches and stroked his erect cock. She knelt before him her eyes widening as comprehension dawned in her eyes. His mouth broken into an evil grin.

“Open”

She obeyed licking her lips and opening mouth wide to accommodate his girth. He thrust hard into her mouth making her gag. All of their encounters had been vigorous, but he had never used her with such force before. He always let her grow accustomed to his size before increasing his power. He would allow her no such luxury this time. Her eyes filled with tears as he flexed his hips mercilessly.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he pulled her to standing. He lifted her and sat her down hard on the wooden table. She winced as the soreness from her spanking made itself known. He pulled her dress up and spread her legs.  He slammed his cock into her soaking wet quim and began a bruising pace. Her moans grew in volume as the pain and pleasure combined to create a new amalgam of feelings she had never experience before.

His mouth covered hers. His tongue parting her lips as they forced their way into her mouth. She moaned in his mouth as their tongues mingled. He moved to her neck sucking hard on the delicate skin leaving his mark. His hands cupped her breasts through her bodice. She wished they were no longer clothed. She loved the feel of his body hair as he rubbed against her smooth skin.

“You are mine. Say it.”

“I’m yours” she panted.

“Say my name. Let everyone know who you belong to.”

“Negan” she cried out repeatedly as she started to reach her climax.

He pumped faster. Breathing hard and grunting. His thrusting became erratic. His hips slowed, his dick twitched inside her as he released his seed. He pulled out immediately. He tucked himself into his breeches as he pulled them up and put his sword belt on.

The loss of his cock inside her was almost painful. She had been so close to the peak, about to fall over the cliff in a wave of pleasure she knew was coming. She whimpered and moaned in disappointment.

“I give you pleasure. Only me. I decide when you come. And you will not be allowed to come until I have forgiven you.”

She looked at him in disbelief. He had never denied her pleasure before. He was going to leave her in this stated of heightened sensitivity until he saw fit. She realized now that had been his plan all along. She would have to return to the ceremony in her current state of disarray with her arousal and his seed dripping down her legs.

“If you are a very good for the rest of the evening, maybe I will permit you to come tonight.”

He helped her sit up on the table and began to lower her skirts. He wiped the tears from her cheeks and smoothed her ruffled hair the best he could. He gave her a soft kiss on her swollen lips. He offered her his arm and led them back through the door to the throne room with a smug smile on his face.

She sat quietly through the rest of the ceremony which included a feast. She dreaded the moment she would have to stand knowing she had an obvious wet spot on the back of her skirt now. She had felt his release oozing out of her body all throughout the meal. Every time she had shifted in her seat or winced, he smiled and stroked her hand with his, sometimes placing a tender kiss into her palm.

As the meal drew to a close, she beckoned one of her handmaidens to fetch her a light cloak. Before she could return, Negan rose and bid his fellow revelers goodnight. The enjoyment he derived from her discomfort and shame was wicked. She walked next to him down the long table of members of the court with her head held high and her cheeks burning.

He opened the door to their chambers and followed her into the room. She stood in the center of the room. Her head bowed forward. Hands clasped in front of her. He reached for her chin and lifted her face to meet his.

“You are forgiven.”

She sighed in relief as she felt his long fingers undress her. She had not expected to be married to a man as possessive as Negan. Never again would she allow another man to show her such familiarity. After thinking on the events of the day, however, she decided it might be worth her while to disobey him in other ways.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably not historically accurate. Lol. This is my submission for @jeffreydeanmorganrarechar Red Velvet prompt as well as @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash Negan Writing Challenge prompt knife play on tumblr. Thanks to @theatricalbride for the brain storming session. It helped a lot. This will probably be a collection of one shots for challenges and prompts for Tumblr. Come visit me on Tumblr...same user name.

 

 

Gwendolyn gazed at her reflection. Her hand slid down the bodice of her dress. She finally looked and felt like a queen. Having been married for a little over a month, she had felt like a prisoner, a possession, and a failure but never a wife or queen.

She had been raised to expect to marry a king of her father’s choosing. He stressed that it was her duty to secure an alliance with a powerful kingdom. Her mother persuaded her that marrying for position, power, and the love of the people would provide her a life with purpose. Who needed the love of a husband? Gwendolyn was prepared to live without it. In fact, she was taught by her mother to live independently of a husband and keep her own council. Many men would be happy to share her bed and leave her to her own devices during the day, but she had not married just any man.

King Negan was possessive and guarded her jealously. In the stories of fair maidens being rescued by handsome knights, he would have been the dragon that burnt all would be suitors to ash and cinders. He isolated her so only those loyal to him had access to her. Her handmaidens were chosen by him, reported to him, and seem to delight in reminding her of that fact. There was no friendship, no shared gossip, none of the warmth she had had with her previous servants.

She fared no better with the ladies of the court. They knew she held no favor with her husband. Therefore, there was nothing to be gained by her friendship. It would only bring themselves under the scrutiny of the king. A situation everyone actively avoided.

For weeks, she had had every facet of her life dictated for her. Her clothes were chosen by Negan. He dressed her in fashions more appropriate for women decades her senior. She longed for gowns worn by the women her own age. Beautiful gowns with intricate embroidery that accentuated every curve. She was the queen. Her gowns should be the envy of all. Instead she was to be pitied.

And pitied she was. She could see it in the condescending glances she received when she walked past the courtiers. They all thought they were better than her. They felt sorry for her. The glances were followed by whispers when news spread that she had not conceived a child immediately.

Gwendolyn knew providing an heir was her one true duty as queen. When she started her monthly courses she thought nothing of it until she saw the disappointment and vexation in her husband’s eyes as she told him. He had not touched her since.

She had been overwhelmed by his presence when they first married. She had done everything he had commanded. She had worn the hideous gowns chosen for her. She had done indescribable acts of lewdness in their bed. She had acted meek and let those handmaidens domineer her. All this she had done without complaint. She needed to do something to take control of her life, to gain his attention once more, and set her future on a different course. So, two weeks ago she designed her plan. Either she would become a true queen or she would be killed. Either way, she would be free.

The dress she wore had taken the full two weeks to complete. She had bought the bright red velvet at the market. She lied to her servants and told them she would use it to make the king a gift for his upcoming birthday. At first, she sewed in front of her would be wardens before any discernable pattern or shape could be detected. Then she sewed during the hours she was confined for her mandatory afternoon rest. The embroidery she had finished this morning feigning illness.

It was beautiful. By far the most beautiful thing in her wardrobe. The red velvet was decadent. It framed her narrow waist and flowed from hips to the floor. The bodice was quite daring compared to her other gowns. Instead of the high square neckline covered in chiffon to her chin, her neck and shoulders were bare. Her cleavage shown to its advantage where the bust line dipped in a v. Her sleeves were long and extra bells of fabric hung from her elbows. Gold and silver flowers and vines were painstakingly stitched along the sleeves and neckline. She wore a gold chained belt around her waist. She was always told to stay away from red because of her fiery hair now woven in intricate braids, but the color made her look as if she glowed. She looked powerful. She completed her outfit with her silver and gold circlet across her forehead.  This ensemble was everything Negan hated; designed to make her standout when he wanted her viewed merely as his accessory.

Her handmaidens arrived just in time to dress and collect her for King Negan’s birthday feast. They were appalled when they saw her standing in her finery.

“The King had commanded you wear your yellow gown, Your Majesty,” one of them said.

“I am already dressed. I will attend the feast in what I am wearing. It is much more appropriate for such an important and merry occasion.”

“You risk His Majesty’s wrath. We’ll be sure to tell him we tried to correct you,” said the other, glaring.

“I am sure you will, but you seem to forget, I am Queen. The only one who may correct me is the King.” Queen Gwendolyn swept past the wretches who looked to be on the verge of apoplectic fits. She made her way to the Great Hall. She could hear people already inside. The guards opened the doors and she was announced. Out of courtesy, the courtiers bowed or curtsied. One day she would have them all drop to their knees and kneel as they did for her husband.

Negan’s eyes narrowed on his wife. She could feel them boring into her. She turned and smiled at him. She walked to him and greeted him. “Happiest of days, dear husband. We are all so fortunate to celebrate your day of birth.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “I do hope Sir Simon remembered to bring the gift I had commissioned for you.”

“An heir would have been an appropriate gift.”

“Since when were you ever one for appropriateness?” She winked at him and took her seat. The confused look on his face lasted but a second, however, it was endearing. She much preferred him this way.

He sat next to her and said little as food was served and wine poured. As the music and dancing began, he leaned towards her. “I do not recall this dress among those I approved from the seamstress.”

“You would not. I made this,” she replied.

“You?”

Her hand flew to her chest as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. “You wound me. I am not without talent.”

“Oh, I am well acquainted with your talents.” He ran his tongue over his lips lasciviously. His eyes wandered down her neckline to the artificially propped breasts. “I believe I told you to wear the yellow dress.”

“Mayhaps you did.” She shrugged and sipped her wine.

“You deliberately disobeyed me?” He took her chin in his hands and turned her to face him displeasure and curiosity etched in the lines of his frown.

Gwendolyn looked into his eyes and leaned towards. She whispered, “Mayhaps I did.” A giggle escaped her lips as she saw his eyebrows raise.

He leaned back in his chair. “Are you drunk or just daft?”

“Neither, I would hope.”

Negan stared at her. She could see his brain trying to untangle the mess she had made of his perception of her. She looked down the tables and across the hall. Heads were huddled together as courtiers whispered and eyed her. She smiled. If she survived this spectacle, she would have at least gained their respect. Not many were brave enough to cross her husband.

Toasts and praises were sung in King Negan’s honor. Gifts and tributes were presented. New armor, weaponry, the finest cloths and jewels to found. Finally, Sir Simon placed a small velvet pouch in front of the King. “From Her Majesty, Sire.” He bowed and retreated.

Negan pulled from the cloth a steel dagger. The weapon was smooth. The handle was covered with fine leather and adorned with a smooth circular pommel. It was plain compared to the jeweled laden weapons most monarchs carried on their belts, but those men would never gut a man for betraying his lord. Negan would and had. This dagger was polished until the doubled edge could split a strand of hair and pierce the organs of enemies with ease. Simple, but effective. It would stand out beautifully against his black leather jerkin. He inspected the blade and craftsmanship. He nodded in her direction. It was more gratitude than anyone else had received.

The music and merriment returned to the hall. The dancing was livelier now that ample amounts of wine and mead had been consumed. “I believe it is time for you to retire,” he said sternly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She rose and gave a short curtsey.  She was immediately flanked by her handmaidens. She was sure they were positively foaming at the mouth to tell her in great detail all the crimes she had committed during the festivities.

“This is not way to your chambers, Your Majesty,” a voice behind her warned.

“No, it isn’t. I require a book from the library to help me relax.” She began walking faster forcing the old hags to keep up.

“His Majesty commanded you to retire.”

“I believe he said it was time to retire. I am not tired and need a book to help me follow my husband’s wishes.” As she reached the library door she stopped and turned to face her wardens. “You may wait here.”

Their faces did not conceal their surprise or contempt. They could not disobey her as she was queen, but she knew her husband would hear of this. She wished she could see their faces when they discovered she escaped their clutches for a night time stroll through the gardens for the library was one of the only rooms on the first floor with windows that could open.

*****

She loved the grounds of the castle. The smell of fresh greenery. The crunch of gravel beneath her slippers. For all his ruthlessness, King Negan seemed to have love for beauty. He had built a magnificent stone labyrinth. The walls were over grown with ivy until the stone was no longer visible. Paths twisted and weaved leading to many hidden alcoves filled with fountains, statues, or gardens. Her favorite had a large old tree in the center. From the tree hung a swing. She had spent many an hour here, book in hand, waiting. Waiting for something to happen. Waiting for her life to change. She knew her wait would be over tonight.

The maze was lit by torches on top of the walls. She swung enjoying the cool breeze against her skin. She searched the sky to admire the stars and saw the moon had risen high. She should start making her way to her chambers. If her handmaidens had not already reported to King Negan, he would notice her absence from their room soon.

She stopped the swing and stood. Goosebumps rose on her skin and shiver went down her spine as she heard a familiar sound.  The sound of gravel under heavy boots and the slow song of a whistle that could belong to only one man. The king.

Her heart raced. Her lungs strained against her stays. She knew she should stay where she was and accept the punishment coming to her, but her body betrayed her brain. She set out as fast as she could without making a ruckus trying to reach the entrance and avoid her husband along the way.

“Now I know, you are not trying to fucking run after the display you put on at dinner. Wearing that dress. If I put out the eyes of every man that leered at you tonight, I wouldn’t have any Saviors left. Your smart mouth at the feast. And now, I find you in the garden when I specifically told you to retire for the night.” His deep voice traveled through the maze as he stalked her. Some moments he seemed right beside her. Others he seemed far away but never for long.

Gwendolyn could no longer hear his footsteps in the gravel. She spun around looking for anything that might give her a hint as to where he was. Or where she was. She realized too late she had stopped paying attention to the turns she had taken and was hopelessly lost.

She persisted for a few minutes. She was certain she would see something she recognized soon. She did. She had passed the same bush three times. She had managed to walk in circles. She ran and finally found herself in the garden with the wishing well. It was a short moss covered stone well surrounded by wrought iron trellises. The iron arches were covered in ivy and soft carpet of grass encircled the area. She momentarily thought of throwing a pin in the well. It seemed a wish would be the only thing that could save her now.

She heard his dark chuckle above her. He had been hunting her from atop the walls. She should have known he would not play fair.  She ran in earnest before a shadow descended in front of her blocking her escape. Strong hands clasped her shoulders. She screamed and began to sway.

“You do not get to fucking swoon. I want you awake for what comes next.” He spun her around and steadied her with his arm. She heard the swish of steel being removed from a sheath, the tearing of fabric. She was straightened and felt the heavy fabric being pulled down her body. One more tug and tear on her stays and she could breathe.

The relief of air in her lungs was replaced by the embarrassing realization that she was outside donned only in her undergarments. The straps of her chemise hung over her arms. Without the corset to holding it in place, the linen barely covered her breasts. She looked at her feet. She saw his boots come into view as Negan slowly circled around her.  Something cold pressed under her chin and lifted her face to gaze at his; the dagger she had gifted him mere hours ago.

He drew the tip of his blade down her throat. “It’s a shame your courses still flow. A shame further still you could not keep the child I planted in you. It will limit the amount of entertainment I can have this evening.”

“What? Why would you think that?” She tried not to move as the blade travel down the valley between her breasts.

The blade stopped. “Your handmaidens assured me you had conceived. Then you told me of your woman’s time.”

“I had not shown any symptoms of conception, my king. I have not bled for a week. They were premature in their announcement to you.”

“And why would they lie to me? They know to do so would only result in their deaths. They are loyal to me and came highly recommended.”

“By whom? An ex-lover? Someone who would like to be in my position? Please do not answer. I do not wish to know. I do know that they have done everything in their power to undermine me and make my life here miserable. I should have known this was all a petty plot born of jealousy.”

“Well that changes things considerably. I assure you I will deal with them tomorrow.”

She sighed in relief. Tomorrow she would be free of those terrible spinsters.

“Tonight, however,” he continued, “I still need to deal with you.” He moved her braid over her shoulder and breathed in her scent. It had been far too long since he had felt her soft skin. He pressed his lips to her racing pulse.

She trembled with trepidation. “Let me dress, and I will accompany you to our chambers.”

His hand snaked up the front of her body. His fingers played with the neckline of her chemise. One gentle pull and her breast was exposed. He filled his hand with the soft weight kneading it. He pinched and pulled her nipple until it tightened into a small bud. “If you wished to be reprimanded in the privacy of our room, you should have heeded my command to retire.” 

Gwendolyn’s mouth twitched. “You never said to retire to our rooms, merely from the feast.”

His hand quickly tightened around her throat. “One would think you wanted to be punished this evening with your quick retorts.” He lightly squeezed his hand and pushed his hardening dick in to the curve of her backside.

She moaned and leaned back into his hard body. His entire body stiffened and moved away from her.

“You do,” he said, his smile stretching across his face as his eyes darkened with lust. She covered herself and tried to hide her desire from him, but it was too late.

Negan grabbed her wrists and pulled her to the trellis, under the arch. He threw his cape to the ground. He undid belt and removed his sword. He looped his belt through the iron and secured her wrists together behind her back. He removed his jerkin and undertunic. He grasped his dagger in his hand and ran the blunt side against her throat.

Gwendolyn’s eyes widened in fear as she felt the cold metal against her skin. She had thought her punishment would resemble the one she received before. She shook as tears formed in her eyes.

“Keep still if you value your head.”

She work to still her body, but the tears had already started to fall. She felt the dagger retrace its path down her body. He used it to rip her chemise from neck to hem. He pulled the tattered fabric apart exposing her breasts to him. Her nipples peaked as the cool air danced over them. The steel tip scraped up her skin leaving a thin pink trail behind it. He dragged it over her breasts and nipples. She whimpered as it circled her areolas then flicked the sensitive points in turn. The blade moved up to her shoulders. She could feel the thin sharp edges grazing her skin as Negan used it to cut the straps of her garment letting it fall to the ground.

She tried to hold back her sobs as the dagger moved down her body past her abdomen where her drawers hung on her hips. He sank to his knees and pressed the flat edge against her pussy. She cried out in alarm as she felt the weapon begin to spread her lips.

“Did you really think it was wise to initiate such diversions with me? You have no knowledge of what the rules truly are. If you wanted me to spank you and fuck you until you were sore, all you needed to do was ask. But you decided to test the limits without knowing what my limits were. Tsk tsk.” He cut the ties to the drawers. They pooled around her ankles. All that was left were her stockings, garters, and slippers.

Negan slipped a finger through her curls and was met with slick wet folds. He laughed. “And here, I thought your father had married me to the most beautiful dullard possible. But this excites you. You’re aroused by the danger. The fear.”

Shame bloomed in her cheeks. “I—I’m not,” she protested.

“Do you know how wet this has made you? Why don’t I show you?” He slid the cold smooth surface of the pommel up and down her slit. He brought it up to her clit and began pressing down in circular motion.

Gwendolyn’s head fell back as a moan escaped her lips. She spread her legs allowing greater surface contact with the slippery steel. Her hips began to move, riding the round knob. He moved it back to her center. She felt the head of the handle breech her inner walls. Pushing and stretch her flesh as he pumped it into her. Heat and tension were building throughout her body. All she could focus on was climbing those sensations until she fell off the edge. Instead everything stopped.

“Open your eyes,” Negan commanded. He held his dagger up in the torch light. It shone with her arousal dripping from the pommel down the hilt. Even the blade wore the evidence of her wickedness. “Clean it off.”

Her eyes furrowed. She looked at the torn remnants of her chemise on the ground. Perhaps she could use them to wipe it off. They were no more than rags now anyways.

He tracked the movement of her eyes and smirked. “Sweet innocent, Gwen. Open your mouth.”

She stared at him as comprehension dawned on her face. Her head began to shake.

“Do not make me ask twice,” he growled.

Gwendolyn opened her mouth obediently. He positioned the pommel in front of her. She took it into her mouth and sucked the tip. She tasted her salty sweetness not wholly unpleasant.

“Good girl,” he praised.

She now realized what act she was mimicking on his dagger. She met his eyes, and saw that he was watching her expectantly.  She took more of the handle into her mouth moving her head using the motions she taught to suck his cock. Long licks up the shaft. Tilting her head side to side. Choking it down to the hilt. He withdrew the handle and flipped the dagger presenting her with the blade. She gave the blade one slow lick from base to tip.

He growled, threw the dagger to the ground, and pressed against her. Her arms and back were pushed painfully into the swirling wrought iron arch behind her. The ivy poked and itched at her skin. He brought his lip crashing down on hers. His tongue pushed into her mouth. She moaned as she felt the hair on his chest move against her sensitive nipples. His erection dug into the soft flesh of her abdomen. His kisses moved down to her neck. He sucked the sensitive skin leaving his mark. He sank once more to his knees drawing her nipples into his mouth turning them each a deep shade of red. He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder spreading her folds before him. He licked up the salty straight until he found her clit. Two fingers entered her sleek and swollen pussy stretching and filling her. His tongue flicked and sucked her bundle of nerves. Her hips began to buck against his face. Her moans filled the air and echoed down the well. Her muscles began to tense and wave a pleasure washed over her.

Negan moved her leg from his shoulder and stood. Her wrists being bound prevented her from falling to the ground. He unlaced his breeches and pulled out his cock. He stroked it a few times viewing his wife as she recovered and moved uncomfortably away from the trellis. He forced her right back and watched her wince. He lifted her hips and positioned himself at her entrance. He slammed himself into her to the hilt. He set a bruising pace. Her breasts bounced as their bodies slapped against each other. Her moans grew to screams as he quicken the pace. This was her punishment after all. She was lucky to have been given any pleasure at all.

He pulled out of her and forced her to her knees. Her arms were bent awkwardly upward behind her. He pushed her face up and saw the glassy look in her eyes. She looked at his erection in front of her face. The head was pulsing. She strained forward and took the wet shaft into her mouth. He began to thrust forcefully. She relaxed her muscles as she was taught, but still she gagged as he hit the back of her throat over and over again. Tears were once more flowing down her cheeks. She felt his hips quiver and cock flex as he released his seed in her mouth. She swallowed all of it.

His hands reached behind her and undid the belt releasing her from her punishment. She looked at her tattered garments. How was she going to get into the castle without being seen? She watched as Negan dressed himself unsure of what to do next.

He walked over to her dress laying on the ground. He picked it up and brought it to her. “Stand,” he commanded. She stood. He could see the trails of scratches left from the dagger decorating her body. Her neck had an unsightly purple bite mark. “Turn.” Her back was already bruising. She would bear the marks of their love making for weeks. “Lift your arms.” He slid the gown over her head. Without laces her back would be exposed so he draped his cape around her shoulders. “Hold this.” He handed her her stays. She hugged them against her body. He lifted her up into his arms and walked confidently into the maze.

 

Gwendolyn woke up the next morning sore but satisfied. She could see by the morning light it was well past breakfast. Usually, those horrible women had woken her by now. She sat up and saw a tray with a note lying next to her.

 

 

Dearest Wife,

Your handmaidens have been dealt with. No longer will they spread their poison with their viperous tongues. You have my leave to send for your handmaidens from your father’s castle if it pleases you. I request you join me for lunch at noon in my study. Do not be late.

-N

 

She gingerly got out of bed. She opened her wardrobe and found nothing but the yellow dress she was supposed to wear last night. A devious grin spread across her face. She walked over to Negan’s wardrobe and found a long red velvet tunic with the family crest embroidered on it. On him it would reach his mid-calf, but on her, it would cover her to the ankles. She pulled it over her head, put a gold belt around her small waist, slipped on some shoes, and left the room in search of her husband.


	3. Chapter 3

The entire castle was gathered in the courtyard awaiting to celebrate the arrival of King Negan. He had been gone for three months destroying a herd of unholy creatures that had decimated villages on the outskirts of a neighboring kingdom, feeding off the living, leaving nothing but mangled corpses for scavengers to feast upon. Negan had ridden off with his Saviors to rid the world of these monsters they called walkers.

Queen Gwendolyn’s back ached as she stood. They had been gathered for what seemed like hours ever since their banners had been spotted along the horizon. Negan probably loved making all his subjects wait, sadistic man that he was. Finally, the trumpets sounded as they rode through the gate.

Although she knew her husband and his knights were the most fearsome of warriors, she had worried for him while he was gone. She had not had any communication from him since he left. No letters. No notes. Nothing but a messenger sent to ride ahead a few days ago to herald their return. The concern she had once felt for him was quickly overpowered by fear.

She discreetly tugged at the neckline of her blue bodice. Even though she had let her dresses out, her breasts strained against the fabric. She clasped her hands in front of her hoping her long belled sleeves would cover the evidence of her secret since her skirts no longer hid the small tell-tale curve of her abdomen where the next heir of the kingdom grew. Whispers were spreading, but still, she had not announced the joyous news.

* * *

 

She had been so happy when she first suspected but so scared. She kept her suspicions to herself until she found herself retching in the mornings. Her new handmaidens, lovely girls she had known in her maidenhood, had agreed to hide the evidence to the best of their abilities for as long as they could. They immediately began to gather fabric and yarn to sew and knit clothes fit for a prince or princess. It was all she could do to keep her excitement contained.

After she missed her third monthly courses, Gwen had decided it was time to tell Negan, but the king announced his intentions to fight monsters in a faraway kingdom first. She learned through gossip that his first wife died in childbirth decades ago, telling him now would only lead to her being locked away, watched day and night, and she could not live the life of a prisoner again.

* * *

King Negan rode into the courtyard looking every part the victor wearing chain mail covered by a red and black tunic his golden crown upon his brow. His armor must have been carried by one of his many squires. He looked glorious as he dismounted his tall black steed. All the subjects, knelt as their king strode past them without a glance. His eyes were firmly settled on his wife.

Gwen’s lips stretched into a beaming smile. All fear forgotten as she beheld her husband and saw the look of lust dancing in his eyes. She realized then she had missed him. Missed their intimacy. Missed their games. He took her in his arms, tilting her head up towards his face as his lips sought hers ignoring the crowd of courtiers averting their eyes. She pressed herself into him and moaned against his mouth. His hands moved to her hips traveling up her waist.

A vice like grip broke Gwendolyn of her desire clouded thoughts. She looked into his eyes and instinctively tried to shrink away from the rage emanating from her husband’s gaze. Her hands cradled her stomach. The motion did not go unnoticed. Negan growled and tightened his grip on her arm, all but dragging her inside the castle.

She knew it would be a mistake to resist, to make more of a scene, so she followed him, trying to keep up with his long strides. She stumbled as they reached the stairs, her vision blurred by tears. He lifted her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way.

Negan kicked the door to their bedchamber open and set her down. Gwen tried to retreat, but was unable to gain much ground. She found herself quickly pinned to the mattress, her large husband looming over her.

“It seems I was remiss in keeping to my marriage vows for these long months. I denied myself the pleasure of other women’s company while my wife acted the whore,” he sneered.

Gwendolyn shook her head and parted her lips ready to plead her case but no sound came as his hand settled around her throat caressing the delicate skin.

“Whose bastard do you carry?”

“Not—not—a bastard.” Although his grip was not restricting her voice, she struggled to get the words out.

“You expect me to believe this child is mine? Who have you been fucking in my absence? Tell me who the father is!” He squeezed her neck lightly. “Do I need to question your new handmaidens? Shall I have the iron heated?”

“I—I—was carrying—before you left,” she cried.

The hand left her throat. His body left their bed. She timidly sat up her fingers tracing her neck and watched him pace the floor.

Negan removed his crown and set it upon a table. His fingers ran through his hair and down his face scratching his beard. “Why would you not share such news with me?”

“I wanted to be sure. If the pregnancy had not lasted, I would not face your disappointment again.”

“Then why did you not tell me when you were certain?”

Gwendolyn glared at Negan. She crossed her arms and her eyes dropping to the floor. “You were leaving. You would have had me condemned to bed regardless of how healthy I was. Months of lying in bed. Without you there to keep me company, where would the fun in that be?” She looked up at him and saw a small smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. “I would have gone mad with boredom for no reason. I had no desire to be a prisoner as I was when we first married. I also had no desire to worry you needlessly when you needed your mind sharp for battle.”

“You should have told me. I had a right to know!” he bellowed.

His face was flushed red. The vein in his forehead was pulsing. She had only one recourse. “You are right.” She placed her hands in her lap, her head bent as if in prayer, and allowed the tears to flow. “It was selfish and cruel. Please forgive me, my king.”

Negan now stood in front of her. His fingers grazed her cheek wiping away tears before he grasped her chin. He tilted her face and stared into her eyes. “You are improving. You almost sounded sincere. We are going to have to address your lying.”

She jerked her head out of his hold. “I never lied.”

“You lied by omission, woman. Now how am I going to teach you this very important lesson?”

Her eyes widened. His lessons had always been fierce and passionate. Although the memories of them made moisture gather between her legs and an ache pulse through her body, she had no intention of letting him manhandle her in her current condition.

“Turn over,” he commanded.

“No,” she said. She stood from the bed and scanned the room for some means of escape.

“Turn around and bend over, or I will tie you to that bed until our child is born.”

Her heart was racing. Had her own welfare been the only one at stake she would have gladly accepted whatever means of punishment he had concocted. Would he put his heir in danger? She looked at him towering in front of her, his arms crossed, an impatient scowl on his face, searching his eyes for malice but found none.

“Gwendolyn, now,” his voice low and even.

Slowly, she turned around and bent over resting her forearms on the feather mattress. She forced herself to take a few unsteady deep breaths willing herself not to panic. She looked over her shoulder, but Negan was no longer behind her. She found him across the room unlocking a drawer in his armoire. He pulled a small box out of the drawer. A devilish grin played across his lips as he made his way back to the bed.

“I have been waiting for a reason to introduce the contents of this box to you.” He set the box on the mattress beside her. He ran his hands along the length of her back. He gripped her hips holding her still as he ground his growing member against the soft curve of her behind. He leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Trust and honesty are important qualities especially in our marriage. You will always remember what happens when you lie from this night forward.”

Gwendolyn felt him pull at her skirts until she heard the silk fabric rend in two. Her drawers were ripped and fell to her ankles. Exposed and vulnerable she shivered when she felt his finger tip dip between her legs, shame washing through her, knowing he would find her wet and needy.

“I do not even need to tell you how wet you are do I? Did my queen miss my cock as much as I missed her quim?” He pulled a bottle out of the box. He poured the yellow liquid on his fingers. “You know what I thought of more than fucking your sweet cunt? Finally, fucking your tight little arse hole.” She froze as she felt his fingers rubbing between her cheeks. She propelled herself forward trying to escape as the pressure increased, but she was held firmly in place in between the bed and her husband as she felt a fingertip enter her.

“No!” she squealed as slight burning pain flared where his well-oiled finger slid deeper into her body. He would still his finger as the pain subsided then push forward until this pattern had him to his lowest knuckle. Her breathing evened out as her body became accustomed to this new invasion. She felt full and yet empty. She wanted him, needed to feel his cock thrusting inside her pussy. It had been so long. Her hips wiggled as she tried to move her thighs closer together.  

Gwen froze as Negan started pumping his finger in and out of her tight hole. Her fingers dug into the counterpane. Her mouth fell open and an unexpected moan escaped her lips as she arched pushing back into hand. Just as she felt the familiar rise of pleasure, he pulled his finger out.

She looked back and saw him spreading more oil over his index and middle finger. He repeated the slow pattern of slight pain, being stretched and filled until his fingers were fully buried inside her. Slowly, he pulled his hand back before plunging to the hilt. Her moans increased as again and again he pounded his fingers in her until she quivered from pent up passion.  

“I believe you are ready.” He reached into the box and pulled out a metal object. It had a smooth cone shaped bulb at one end with a thin handle and flat circular handle. He generously spread oil over the bulb.

“What is it?” she asked.

“It’s a device I designed. Originally, I designed them for the dungeons. The ones used down there are much larger and covered in small spikes. I eventually saw that with a few changes it could be used for other more entertaining purposes.”

She whimpered as she felt the cold slick metal press against her until her body gave way. She tried to breathe deeply as it pushed against her inner walls, but she could only hold her breath as all her muscles tensed. Finally, it was hidden deep inside her except for the flat metal handle settled between her cheeks.

“I believe we have a feast to attend. Clean yourself up and get dressed. You may not remove your punishment.”

Gwen pushed herself to standing. She could feel the metal device inside her create pressure as she moved. She also felt her arousal smear across the tops of her thighs as she walked to her wardrobe. She wanted nothing more than to beg for him to take her but knew he meant to keep her in this state until he saw fit. She felt a wave of shame knowing she would have to face the whole court in her wanton state.

What was left of her gown laced in the front, so she had no trouble removing it or her chemise. She would have her handmaidens destroy them later. There would be enough gossip without those rags being discovered in the laundry. Looking in her mirror, realized the last time she stood naked in front of her husband she presented a much different picture. Her waist had expanded as well as her hips and thighs. Her breasts were heavy and round with bright blue veins dancing across them, her nipples darker. She quickly began to search for something to cover herself with.  

She caught a glimpse of Negan as he began removing his tunic and chain mail completely ignoring her. Months in battle had made him stronger, leaner. His chest hair seemed to have more silver sprinkled amongst the black. He dressed in a leather doublet with buckled closures down the front over a white linen shirt. His dust and mud covered boots were replaced with ones freshly polished.

Gwendolyn chose a beautiful emerald green dress with gold embroidery. It was one of the few only let out in the bust. It hugged at her waist more so than her others showcasing the curve of her growing abdomen. The speculation would end tonight.

Tomorrow, she would have to tell the seamstress to make her some new gowns. She could not let her own dresses out any further. She pulled her hair over her shoulder, unfortunately, this dress laced up the back.

She walked over to her husband who sat with his feet propped on the table drinking a goblet of wine. “Would you help me, please?” she asked.

He rose to his feet and began pulling the ribbons on her dress closed before tying them in knot. His arms circled around her. His hands roamed over her stomach caressing the small bump. They traveled up her body filled themselves with her breasts massaging their weight.  He moaned in her ear. “I’ve never been more aroused than seeing the changes carrying my child has created. All the curves and softness. Knowing that my seed did this. My child. My heir. And everyone will know that I take my pleasure with your body. That you are mine. That it is my right and mine alone to fuck you any way I please. And after dinner, I will.”

He took her arm, wrapped it around his, and led them from their chambers to the Great Hall. The festivities seemed to last forever. The food, the wine, the toasting, the dancing. Everyone wanted to celebrate their victory over the walkers. After King Negan announced the upcoming birth of the heir to the kingdom, the revelers wanted to congratulate the couple. Having to speak to everyone as if she did not have something penetrating her body, was difficult. She lacked her normal poise and grace, but most were willing to blame her condition for any faux paus. What shamed her the most was how titillating she found the situation. She felt as though she were committing a crime and getting away with it. It was exhilarating. She squirmed in her seat enjoying the way bulb felt as it shifted slightly.

Negan leaned towards her, “I know what you are doing, and I suggest you stop.”

She remained still, the picture of elegance and royalty the rest of the night. Hours later as the revelries began to die, the throbbing between her legs had become unbearable. She tried to cross her legs but the friction was too much. She was so sensitive.

“Are you ready to retire?” Negan asked.

“Please,” she whispered not trusting her voice.

He stood and offered her his arm. She gripped it tightly trying not to cry out as she stood. Every step was blissful torture as they exited the hall.  Her steps were measured and their progress slow.

“If you do not walk faster, I will fuck you in this hallway,” he said.

“I can’t. It’s too much,” she whimpered.

Negan’s eyes gleamed in victory as he pushed her up against the wall. “My poor queen. Has you punishment taken its toll? Are you sincerely sorry for keeping such important news from me? Do you seek forgiveness? Release?” His lips hovered over hers, his stubble lightly brushing her chin and cheeks.

She moaned as his lips touched her in a feather light kiss. “Yes,” she said.

“Beg.”

Her eyes flashed and settled into a scowl. Her teeth clenched and fingers balled into fists. One of these days, she would have him begging her and she would deny him as cruelly as he did her.

“Plot your revenge some other time, love. Right now, I want to hear you beg,” he said.

She sighed knowing the only way to get what she so desperately needed was to submit. She rubbed her hands up his broad chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please, Negan. I beg your forgiveness. I need you. I want you. I’ve missed you so much.”

He lifted her with ease and carried her through the hallways as she nuzzled and kissed his neck. Before they reached their chambers he set her down. “Walk,” he said.

She straightened her back and raised her chin. She was almost to their door when she had to brace herself against the wall clenching her thighs and groaning. She heard a dark chuckle behind her. Leaning against the cold stone she made her way through their bed chamber door one intolerable step after another. She walked towards the bed and rested her forehead against one of the large carved posts that held up the wooden canopy and heavy damask curtains.

Large hands brushed against the nape of her neck as Negan tried to until the laces he knotted. “Fuck this.” She heard the familiar sound of his dagger leaving its scabbard. At tug and ripping sound followed. He pulled the destroyed laces from her gown. She shivered as she felt the tip of his blade trace over her shoulder blades.

The metal left her skin and she quickly began to undress before her husband decided to ruin another gown. Gwen turned to face her husband. He watched with hooded eyes undressing himself as she slid her gown down her body. She kicked the emerald gown to the side and stepped out of her slippers. She slowly untied her chemise and let it fall from her shoulders, her fingertips grazing her breasts, her sensitive nipples hardened as the cool air touched them. She pushed her drawers off her hips swaying from side to side revealing the triangle of bright red curls between her legs. Standing in only her stockings and garters, she propped her foot on a nearby stool, exposing her dripping sex to him as she untied each garter and rolled down her stocking.

“Get on the bed.”

She immediately obeyed laying on her back watching as he climbed over her body. He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth, his tongue pushing past her lips. His hand grabbed her breast, squeezing the soft flesh then pinching her nipples. She gasped when he thrust his cock between her wet folds and opened her legs wider.

He lined himself with her entrance. She felt him pushing inside her inch by inch until he was fully buried. She felt so deliciously full. He sat back on his knees lifting her hips to him, holding her knees forcing her legs as wide as the would go and his cock slide in and out of her pussy. The bulb pushed against him allowing him to hit new angles. Within a few thrusts, she could feel her climax nearing.

“Touch yourself. I want to watch you rub your clit.”

Gwen blushed. That was not something she had ever done. To seek pleasure without the chance of procreation was sin.

“You’ve never touched yourself?” he asked incredulously. “My poor little queen. Without release for months? Even I fucked my fist whilst away. Let me help you.” His hand rubbed up her abdomen feeling the hard curve of her stomach before settling between her legs. His thumb brush over her clit before dipping lower to gather the slickness they had created. He massaged her clit in a circular motion. It didn’t take long for heat to build, a sheen of sweat to bead on her brow. As her climax exploded, her cunt gripped his dick while he continued pumping harder through her orgasm.

As she gradually came down, she realized he had pulled out. He was pouring the oil from earlier into his hand and stroking his dick coating it from tip to base. Moved back between her legs and pushed her legs as close to her chest as possible. Slowly, he pulled the metal plug from her ass and admired the stretched hole. He rubbed the head of his cock against it before pushing into the resisting muscle. He began to rub her clit again and he felt her tense.

“Focus on the pleasure.”

She tried but she still felt the stinging stretch of every movement he made. She didn’t know if she would be able to handle much more when the pain subsided and she was able to breathe. He began to cautiously pump in and out. The sensations at her clit were easier to focus on now and she let the pleasure sweep through her again.

“Touch yourself. Get your fingers wet then rub your little nub here.”

Timidly she touched her slit marveling at how wet she truly was. She rubbed the liquid up towards her bundle of nerves and began to stroke it.

“Fuck yes. I want to watch you fuck yourself while I fuck you.”

Encourage by his lust, she closed her eyes and let herself just feel. Feel him pounding inside her. Feel her fingers building tension with every flick of her wrist. Her free hand reached up and toyed with her nipples. Pinching and pulling until the mix of pleasure and pain sent her over the edge again.

“God damn. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” His movement became erratic as he sought his release shooting cum inside her ass.

They laid side by side panting as the recovered from their bliss. After a few minutes, Negan rose, wrapped a robe around his body, and ordered some maids to prepare a bath.  He closed to curtains to the bed shielding his resting wife from view as a tub and hot water were placed in front of the lit fireplace.

After the servants were sent away, Gwen excused herself to the privy then pinned up her hair. She watched Negan leaning in the tub with his eyes closed. She wondered how long it had been since he was able to put his guard down. She joined him in the water and began lathering soap in his chest hair moving the bubbles over his shoulders and down his biceps. He opened his eyes and gave her a quick grin.

He laughed and said, “You get any bigger and you’re going to make the tub overflow.”

“Not if I kick you out.” She slapped at his chest but he caught her hand, placing a kiss on her wrist.

They washed and dressed for bed. Gwendolyn closed her eyes and waited for sleep to take hold. She felt Negan move closer behind her. She evened out her breathing feigning sleep. A few minutes later, she felt his hand splay across her stomach. He rubbed her stomach gently. She drifted into slumber as her husband showed affection in the only way he knew how, when he thought no one was watching.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for a request and for @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash ‘s writing challenge…prompt Wedding dress. Takes place on wedding night. Gwen is scared and unsure of the man she married so expect some serious submissiveness. This is smut heavy but not kink heavy. It’s her first time. He’s not going to totally traumatize her with whips and chains. So this is pretty vanilla for these two. Part 1 is actually their first foray into kink and takes place a week after this. Hope you like it.

* * *

 

 

The ceremony was long over. The feast and celebrations were steadily getting more rambunctious as the wine flowed freely. Toasts to the newlywed couple rang out every few minutes as guests searched for new ways to praise their King and his new bride, allowing them to indulge without guilt.

Gwendolyn had barely been able to eat sitting next to the tall intimidating man that was now her husband. Having only met him yesterday, she was not sure what kind of man he was. She had heard rumors of his ruthlessness on the battlefield. His quick and harsh judgements. She could only hope he would be a gentler husband. But her hopes were fading fast.

Negan had dance with her once to open the festivities and not again. Which was a shame. For such a large imposing figure he moved about the dance floor with grace. He sat silent next to her at the high table. Any attempts to start a conversation with him resulting in short curt answer.

So, Gwen watched others enjoying her wedding. The men drank heavily. Lewd jokes brought a permanent flush to her cheeks. The women glared at her in envy or perhaps pity.  She sipped her wine as she sat, dreading the moment when it would be time for her to retire.

It came too soon. Her new handmaidens provided by her husband came to collect her. They lead her to her new chambers that she would share with Negan. It was luxurious and yet not as opulent as she would have expected. A stone fireplace lit the space. Large intricately carved four post bed with heavy curtains sat opposite the fire. Everything was decorated in shades of black and red.

Gwen stood in front of a mirror and gazed at herself. She seemed to clash with everything around her. Out of place in her white wedding gown. Delicate lace laid over her arms and shoulders. Just a shade brighter than her skin. It had small pearls sewn over the skirt that caught the light as she walked. It was the most beautiful gown she had ever owned.

Her handmaidens focused on the many twists and braids holding her red hair in an elaborate design until it flowed freely to her waist. Gwendolyn finally saw herself for what she was. A virgin sacrifice. Now it would be time for her to lay across the altar to be devoured by the dragon that had threatened her father’s kingdom.

Panic began to rise as she felt fingers begin to work the many pearl buttons at her back. She could feel her stomach churn and her throat tighten. She blinked her eyes rapidly as she fought the tears threatening to spill. She wasn’t ready for this. Any of it.

The door crashed open and the King strode through the door followed by servants carrying trays laden with fruit, cheese, bread, and wine.

“Leave us,” King Negan commanded.

Suddenly, Gwendolyn was left alone with a man that she did not know or trust. A man her father sold her to in lieu of a monetary tribute. She felt helpless and hopeless. All her dreams of love and affection seemed foolish. She should have known she would never have been allowed a chance for love. She was a woman, a pawn. A daughter to be bargained with. A wife to produce heirs. Never a woman with an independent will and individual mind.

“It seems your father did not lie when he spoke of your beauty. It took damn near all my self-control not to fuck you on the table at the feast.”

Gwen’s eyes widened. She felt color flood her face. Never had she been spoken to with such vulgarity.

“That blush only makes me want you more. So sweet.” He walked closer to her. Circling her. She flinched as he fingers grazed her cheek. “Are you scare of me or just what’s to come?”

Her eyes lowered to the ground. Her hands played with the fabric on her sleeves.

He gripped her chin and lifted her face to look at him. His gaze was hard. His grip firm. “Now, I heard you repeat your vows. I know you can speak, and I expect an answer when I ask a question.”

“Both,” she whispered.

“I assume you’ve heard stories, legends about me. They’re all true. I am as dangerous and terrible as they say. To my enemies. Are you my enemy?”

“No.” She looked at his face truly for the first time, studying every detail. He was beautifully made. His brow was high. His eyes had softened, a beautiful hazel with flecks of green. His grin was sinful.

He released her from his grasp. “What have you been told about wedding nights?”

She swallowed and tried her best to use her full voice. “I am to lay down and let you do as you wish, Your Majesty. There will be pain, and I will bleed.”

His eyebrows raise. “That’s it. That’s all they told you? Fuck, no wonder you look terrified.” He walked to the table and poured a generous goblet of wine. “Drink this. All of it.”

Gwen took the drink and did has he commanded. He refilled her chalice and motioned for her to continue. He sat and motioned for her to do the same. He cut her a slice of bread and spread a soft cheese over the surface. “You need to eat. You barely touched your dinner.”

Surprised he noticed, she bit into the soft bread enjoying the mellow flavor of the cheese. He handed her a plate of fruit that she nibbled on, taking dainty bites, careful not to spill any juices on her dress. She finished her second cup of wine and smiled at the man across the table.

A slow grin spread across his face. “There we are. That’s better.” He stood and offered her his hand, helping her to her unsteady feet.

She fell into his chest, her hands lingering on the hard surface before raising to his face, cupping his cheeks. “You are so handsome, Your Majesty,” she slurred.

His smile widened. “I know,” he whispered in her ear as he turned her towards the table. He swept her hair over her shoulder. He began plucking at the long row of buttons. “Bloody hell.”

Gwen braced herself on the table as she felt him grab the delicate dress and rip it in two. The rending of the fabric and the plinking of buttons scattering across the wooden floors filled her ears. The tattered remains of her dress were pushed to the ground and her stays were cut from her body, leaving her in her chemise, drawers, stockings, and slippers. Her hands instinctively flew up trying to cover her meagerly clad breasts as she was spun around.

Negan’s hands lifted the hem of her top and began to lift the soft cotton away from her abdomen. “Lift your arms.” He watched her hesitate. “Do not make me repeat myself. Now.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and raised her arms over her head swaying slightly. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt rough warm hands cover her breasts before she could shield herself.  Her nipples tightening against his touch. Her body yearned to arch further into his hands but fear of seeming wanton and base kept her body rigid against his wandering hands.

He pulled Gwen flush against his body. One arm snaked around her waist, the other stroking the soft skin of her neck, up to her jawline. He placed soft kisses against her quickening pulse and trailed his lips to her ear. “You are my wife. Everything we do in the privacy of our bedchambers is sanctioned by God. Nothing we do here is shameful or sinful. Do you understand?” he asked, his voice a low growl. She nodded. Eyes shut. “Open your eyes and answer me.”

Lashes fluttered as she opened her eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty. I understand.” Gwendolyn started to look away, at anything other than the intense stare of her husband.  

His hand snaked through her hair and gripped it tight at the roots, pulling her head back, forcing her to look at him. “Negan.”

“Negan,” she repeated breathlessly.  

He bent his head down, pressing his lips against hers, using his hand in her hair to angle her face, granting him easier access. He gave a quick tug to her tresses, resulting in her parting her lips in shock. He slid his tongue into her mouth and chuckled when she pushed away from him in earnest. Her struggles, ignored as he held her against him and pressed his tongue further into her mouth, eventually ceased as her body relaxed against his. Her tongue tentatively mimicked his movements. He felt the hum of a small moan in her throat and knew her submission was nigh.

Negan carried her to the bed and laid her down. He removed her slippers and stockings. Her hands started creeping slowly up her body. Grabbing her wrists, he pinned them to her sides. “Do not ever hide yourself from me. You are here for my pleasure. To view at my leisure. You belong to me.” He pulled at the ribbon on her drawers. “Let’s see if the hair on your cunt is as red as the hair on your crown.” Ignoring her attempts to clamp her thighs together, he pulled her drawers down her legs, letting them fall to the ground with her other garments.

He stood by the edge of the bed staring down at her naked form. He pulled at the leather straps closing his black jerkin shrugging it off of his shoulders and pulled his white shirt over his head. He stepped out of boots then crawled over her.

His mouth crashed down on hers. He bit her bottom lip until she open her mouth and his tongue was once more exploring her mouth. Her senses were overwhelmed. The taste of his wine flavored tongue, the spicy scent of leather and soap, the friction of his chest hair rubbing against her sensitive nipples, and the pressure building somewhere deep inside her. She felt him press his manhood against her. Heat coiled in her lower abdomen. Wetness flooded between her legs.

Negan’s mouth travel down her body. Her body arched as he sucked and pinched her nipples until the pale pink peaks were red. He kissed down the flat planes of her stomach nipping at the soft flesh, his hands squeezing her hips. As his chin, grazed the short red curls between her legs she shot upright and tried to push him away, “No!” she shouted.

He was on top of her once more in a second. His hands wrapped around her slender wrists, pinning them to bed by her head. The fierce look on his face let her know she had displeased him. “You do not tell me no, woman. Now open your legs.”

Tears formed in her eyes. Squeezing them shut, she spread her legs. Cool air hit the hot wet folds. Negan’s hot breath sent shivers down her spine. “You have a beautiful little quim,” he said. He licked her slit, his broad flat tongue spreading her lips, his short beard rubbed against the tender skin. He sucked and nibbled her folds, pulling them until she arched underneath him. He used his thumbs to spread her further exposing her clit. He licked and sucked her pearl until her hips bucked and body writhed, moans growing louder as her pleasure built.

Gwendolyn whimpered when he stood. She watched as he removed his breeches, his erection throbbing as he stroked the swollen member. She wished she was not woefully ignorant of her marital duties. Why would her mother keep her willfully in the dark? She was so sure something was about to happen before he stopped his ministrations on her body. Confused and aroused she barely registered her husband’s deep voice.

“Come here and kneel,” he commanded, gesturing to the floor in front of him.  

Slowly, moving through a haze from passion or wine, Gwen found herself kneeling swaying slightly before her husband watching his long fingers stroke his thick shaft, his balls pulling with each tug. “Open your mouth.”

Her eyes shot to his. Surely, he couldn’t mean for her to use her mouth as he did. He stepped closer. The glistening tip of his cock ghosting over her lips.

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked into her upturned face. “If you make me repeat myself, you will regret it. Now be a good girl.”

She closed her eyes, opened her mouth, and waited. Nothing happened. She looked at him lips still parted.

“Grab the base and lick the head,” he instructed.

Tentative fingers wrapped around the base of his dick. It was warm, smoother than she had imagined, almost silky with thick veins running up its length. Her tongue darted out between her lips licking the salty precum off her husband.

“Now, take my cock in your mouth and stroke me with your hand.” His hand ran through her hair as she clumsily tried to follow his directions. His hand push her further along the shaft in a steady rhythm that her hand copied.

Negan pulled Gwen off his cock. “Good, lass. Now go lay on the bed. Head on the edge.” He watched her young body move and bounce as she clumsily crawled onto the bed.

She laid on the bed, her heading hanging slightly off the edge looking at him upside down. He stepped closer until his cock was over her face. He nudged her lips with the tip, and she immediately opened her mouth.

“Relax your throat, love,” he said, as he began to thrust into her mouth. He placed his hands on her throat feeling it swell with every snap of his hips. He leaned over her and pulled her legs to her chest as he licked and sucked her pussy. Her moans vibrated his dick. Her hands twisted in the covers. He pumped into her until he felt her gag and tightened around him. He would have cum down her throat if he hadn’t remember that the marriage must be consummated to be legal. There would be plenty of time to cum in her and on her any way he wanted after that.

He pulled out of her mouth and moved her limp body to the head of the bed, resting on a pillow. Her eyes were glassy and glazed. Her hips gyrating searching for something it wasn’t aware of yet as she whimpered and moaned.

Negan laid down next her and kissed her swollen lips. He spread her legs, his fingers rubbing her clit in small circles. Her breathing quicken into little pants. He pressed harder and quickened his pace. He watched as her body stiffened and a loud scream erupted from her lips.

He rolled on top of her and lined himself up with her entrance. He pushed past her maidenhead before her muscles had a chance to recover from her orgasm. Her tight muscles fluttered around him. Her hands gripped his biceps, nails cutting into his skin, gritting her teeth as he began to thrust inside her. “Relax,” he whispered in her ear. Her discomfort was short lived. He kissed her deeply until her tension eased, and she pulled away from his lips.

“Yes,” she moaned. Her hips rolled meeting his as he began chasing his release within her. Her hands ran up his back feeling his muscles flex as he held himself above her.

Negan sat back on his knees and looked at his lovely young bride. Flush of lust spread across her body. Breasts bouncing as his cock disappeared into her wet cunt. His thumb flicked her clit. He felt her squeeze around him as her second orgasm swept through her. “Mine,” he growled and with a few more thrusts, Negan filled her womb with his seed.

Gwen looked at her husband unsure of what to do next. When he pulled the blankets over her naked body, she closed her eyes. Sleep came quickly.

When his bride’s breathing evened out, Negan pulled the cover back and inspected the sheets. Clean. He knew she was innocent. He felt her maidenhood break. He left the bed and grabbed a dagger off his table. A quick prick on his palm and he watched a few drops fall. Any demands to see the sheets would protect his wife’s reputation and the legitimacy of any future heirs. He crawled in bed next to her and for the first time in years, slept next to a woman.

* * *

The next morning Gwendolyn awoke alone. Her body was sore. She sat up, curling her legs into her chest. Her cheeks heated as she remembered some of their activities from the night before. She wondered if she had pleased him. She’d never known such things were possible or that she could feel such pleasure from a man’s touch. Such carnal pleasures went against everything she was taught. Guilt and shame filled her mind.

She looked around the room. Her eyes locked on the remnants of her wedding dress. Her heart ached. Her once beautiful symbol of purity and chastity laid torn asunder much like her own virtue. She wrapped the sheet around her body and picked up the gown. The bodice was destroyed, but the skirt was salvageable. Not useless. Not worthless now that it had been worn. She picked it up and laid it out over a chair determined to make it beautiful once more. Determined not to let one moment in time define it or her forever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen takes control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-con, bondage, breast milk, 69...

Months. It had been months since he’d touched her, Queen Gwendolyn thought to herself as she paced the bed chamber, her short chemise flowing around her thighs, bare feet padding against the hard wood floors.

She had never expected patience from a man like her husband. A man that would gut another at the slightest offence without hesitation. But he had been seemingly respectful of her healing body after giving birth their son, Arthur over 3 months ago.

King Negan had surprised her in many ways. When she had gone into labor, he defied convention and demanded to stay in the birthing chamber. He would not lose another wife he had said. He bathed her brow with wet cloths, rubbed her shoulders and back between her pains, and endured his wife squeezing his arm so hard she broke the skin with her nails. When his heir was placed in his arms, he smiled the first genuine smile Gwen had ever seen. She’d never felt so happy watching him dote on the newborn prince.

Now she felt only confusion and despair. She missed his touch. Gwen’s thoughts started to betray her. Had he gotten his heir and had no more use for her? Was he no longer attracted to her body and the changes it had gone through? Her belly no longer as taught. Hips wider. Breasts heavier. Had he found another woman to meet his needs?

She had tried to provoke him. Rubbing her breasts against his arm in passing. Whispering innuendos into his ear at dinner. He would not rise to her provocations. She’d even undressed and climbed into bed with him, only to have him kiss her forehead, pull away, and wish her good night. She had awaken on more than one occasion to find him gone in the middle of the night. Once catching him pleasuring himself in the privy chamber. She would endure this humiliation no more.

It had been ridiculously easy to gain the items she needed for her plan. She spoke to the healer, complaining of sleepless nights. He’d been only too eager to give her a sleeping draught. The ropes she needed were unkowingly provided by her husband and readily available in their room. He would finally be at her mercy. All she had to do was wait.

She didn’t have to wait long. The heavy wooden door swung open. Loud booted footsteps resounded in the silence behind her, heralding the entrance of her husband.

“You should be in bed,” he said gruffly. Negan reached for his decanter of wine and poured the dark red liquid in his goblet.

A slow smirk teased the corners of Gwen’s lips as she watched her husband drink heartily and pour himself another tainted nightcap.

“I’m not tired.” She closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his broad shoulder.

“You need your rest, wife.” He rose and left her as he entered the privy chamber.

Rest was the last thing she needed. What she needed was to be fucked into oblivion. Tonight she would take matters into her own hands.

She climbed into bed with a book. A few minutes later Negan joined her dressed only in his braies. It took but a few minutes for him to fall asleep. She waited until she heard the soft snore of deep slumber pass his lips before she put her plan in action.

Working the silk rope into knots around the bedpost, she tied his wrists and ankles to the four corners of the bed. She took a few moments to admire him. His body relaxed as she ran her hands over him, through his chest hair, slowly examining every scar across his chest. She was rarely able to study him at her leisure. He always needed to be in control, never showing any vulnerability. But he was hers now. Hers to toy with. Hers to tease. Hers to take.

Gwendolyn doused the candles and laid down next to him, wondering when the draught would wear off.  She let her fingers play across the hard planes of his body. Her arm coming to rest on his chest, she imagined how it would feel if he held her back in a loving embrace. Her eyes closed, joining her husband in slumber.

* * *

Gwen was jolted awake some hours later by a growl and body thrashing under her.

“What the bloody fuck! Gwendolyn. Untie me at once!” the king commanded.

“No.” Gwen slipped from the bed and lit a candle, bringing back to the nightstand next to the bed. She pulled back the counterpane reveling in her husband’s body, limbs fighting against his restraints. She walked to her armoire and pulled out a bag.

“The fuck do you mean no? I am your King. You must obey my commands.”

“No. Tonight, I am your Queen, and if I were you, I would remain silent until spoken to.”

“What are you going to do if I don’t?” Negan sneered.

“Think you, I have not paid attention the last year of our marriage? Punishment has been something I have become quite familiar with.”

He glared at his wife. “You’d not dare strike your king.”

“No, but I would discipline my husband. And who would you go running to if I did? No one. No one would believe you and if they did, you would be disgraced. Overpowered by your wife? Ha! The idea is preposterous. So, you are going to be my good boy tonight.”

His eyes widened as he realized the truth of her words. “You are going to regret this.”

“I very much doubt that.” She smiled as her husband continued to fight against his bonds. She reached into her velvet bag and pulled out a small dagger. It was not a dagger fit for a king. There were no jewels or golden hilt, but it did fit a queen’s hand rather nicely. “How many of my dresses have you ruined, husband?”

“Keep that bloody dagger away from me, wench!”

“I would hold still if I were you, it would be such a shame to mare one of your best assets.” She took the dagger and slipped it under the fabric at his knees, cutting the linen in two up to his hip, exposing his muscular thigh. Dragging the tip of the blade across his pelvis, she cut from his other hip to his knee, leaving a pink scratch hidden beneath his leg hair.

“When I get free, you’ll not be able to walk for a week,” he threatened.

His cock twitched as she pulled the tattered cloth away from his body, setting the dagger on the night stand. “Empty promises. You can stop your growling, because there is no denying you are enjoying this.” She crawled up his body watching his dick swell slowly into an upright position as she ghosted her lips over his thigh. She bit his leg, her cheek rubbing against his sack causing him to stiffen as he held his breath.

“Woman, no good will come from this—“

“Oh, I think that’s enough from you.” She crawled up the rest of his body, the silky fabric from her chemise tickling his abdomen. She straddled his shoulders, pulling up her garment a few inches to reveal the soft red curls between her legs. “Let’s give that mouth something better to do, shall we?”

Shifting her weight, she lowered her body down over his mouth. His lips didn’t part. Didn’t move at all. She rolled her hips enjoying the feel of his beard regardless. Her pussy was already dripping in anticipation coating the short hair around his mouth.

Gwen’s head fell back as his mouth opened, and his tongue swept through her pussy. His mouth devoured her, nibbling and lapping at her folds while she rode him before his lips latched onto her clit. He sucked and pulled on her sensitive nub. Her thighs tightened on either side of his head. Her grip on the head board forcing her knuckles to whiten. Suddenly, his mouth released her, and his head fell back on the pillow.

She grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “Oh, naughty boy. You are not in control here. I will take my pleasure from you. But, perhaps you need a little persuasion to cooperate.”

She turned her body facing away from the headboard. Her hands traced over his shaft watching his cock twitch when she brushed past a sensitive spot. Her fingers wrapped around the base and squeezed. She felt the groan he tried to withhold rumbling in his chest.

Gwen took his cock in to her mouth, swirling her tongue around the head licking up the salty drops that leaked from the tip. His head lurched upwards as his mouth reached between her legs. Bobbing up and down his length, she worked to take him to the hilt until he hit the back of her throat. His hips bucked upward, thrusting forcefully into her mouth as he groaned into her cunt. This time it was her time to stop.

She crawled away from him. Turning to face him once more, she straddled him. His dick was settled between her slick covered lips. She stroked him with her body, coating him in her arousal until there was no friction between their bodies. She raised her hips and positioned him at her entrance.

“No,” he said, his voice rough.

Gwen stopped. After all this, he still didn’t want her. She wanted to curl up and die from embarrassment. How was she going to live with such humiliation?

“Why?” she whispered. “Why don’t you want me anymore? Am I no longer pleasing? Is there someone else?”

“Fuck, woman. Of course, I fucking want you. Could you not tell how much with my dick in your mouth about to burst like a green lad?”

“Then why?”

“I was there when you gave birth. I saw the struggle, the pain, the blood. I have no intention of going through that again so soon.”

Her eyebrows raised. “You’ve been through countless battles and tournaments, and my birthing pain is what quells the great King Negan?”

He glared at his wife. “Your body needs time to heal.”

“Women’s bodies are designed to give birth. My body has healed. All the midwives and healers have confirmed this multiple times. What my body needs is to feel my husband inside me. What my body needs is my king to rule me.”

He looked away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to wait any longer.”

She rose up on her knees and lowered herself onto his shaft quickly. She moaned at how deliciously sinful it felt to be filled and stretched. She rose again, loving how smoothly their bodies moved together. His body was tense and rigid under her as he tried to resist.  She leaned forward, her hands resting on either side of his head her short chemise separating their skin.

“There is no shame in enjoying this with me.” She nuzzled into his neck, sucking his earlobe between her teeth.

“If I were free,” he growled between gritted teeth.

She moved her hands to his throat, his eyes widening as she squeezed then released him. “But you’re not,” she said with a laugh that dissolved into a moan as her clit rubbed against the base of his dick.

Gwen ground her hips against him, the pleasure intensifying as she quickened her pace no longer caring for taunts and teasing. Her only focus was the sensations building in her body, climbing to new heights of sensual self-gratification her fingers had never achieved. Her muscles tightened, feelings of euphoria crashed into and throughout her as her orgasm ripped across her body.

Flushed and light headed, she looked down at her husband. His eyes had darkened, a flush spread across his cheeks. She knew that look. She had craved that look. She grabbed the dagger and made quick work of the silk rope binding him.

Negan had her disarmed and flat on her back before she could voice a protest. He ripped through the thin material of her chemise, releasing her breasts from their tight confines.

“No!” she yelled, trying to cover her breasts.

Her nipples hardened as the cold night air hit them. She felt her breasts let down and milk began to flow from her breasts.

“I’m so s—“she started.

Negan’s guttural moans vibrated against her body as he laid on her, licking the sticky sweet liquid off her curves. He turned his attention to her nipples, darker than they were before the baby, sucking the small hard peaks, swallowing small mouthfuls of milk.

He sat back on his heels, holding the back of Gwen’s knees, pushing them towards her shoulders. Sinking into her to the hilt, he began to pound into her, skin slapping skin, the whole bed shaking with force of his thrusts.

“Still so fucking tight,” he groaned as she clenched around him.

He pulled out, grabbed her hips, and flipped her onto her stomach. Fisting his hand through her hair, he pulled her up to her hands and knees. He slapped her ass, using her hair to hold her in place.

“This is what you wanted? To be at my mercy?” his voice rumbling behind her. “After your little stunt, my dear, I have none.” His drove his cock into her warm wet pussy relentlessly until her moans were screams.

He wrapped his arm around her waist, his fingers delving through her short springy curls to her clit. Circling it, he made her come again and again as he drove himself inside her roughly until she begged incoherently. With one last thrust, his body spasmed as his dick pulsed, coating her inner walls with his cum.

They collapsed next to each other, panting, a sheen of sweat covering their naked bodies. Negan pulled her close to him, her leg draping over his, his hand searching for hers on his chest. He brought her hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on her open palm.

“If you ever do something like that again, you will find yourself in the dungeons in chains,” he threatened, his eyes closed a lazy smile of contentment stretching across his face.

“You promise?” she asked.

“I am the king. And my word is law,” he promised.

Satisfied and hopeful, Gwendolyn fell asleep in the arms of her husband, lover, and king. For the first time in months, she felt secure in her knowledge that she held a special place in his life and maybe, just maybe, his heart.


End file.
